


sweet flesh and hard nails

by loveclouds



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10017962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveclouds/pseuds/loveclouds
Summary: Oikawa pops home for a quick visit in the middle of a three-month training program abroad and Iwaizumi welcomes him home.





	

\---

 

The first time Oikawa wakes up from his afternoon nap, he surreptitiously wipes away the drool smeared from his mouth to Iwaizumi’s collarbone and dreamily goes back to sleep. 

 

The second time Oikawa wakes up from his afternoon nap, he actually disentangles himself to do something useful. It takes a laughably long time, maybe because he has trouble doing things he doesn’t want to, and leaving the warm cradle of Iwaizumi’s arms isn’t really something he elects to do with much frequency. 

 

Still, he can foresee from experience that they’ll both be starving given another hour. Iwaizumi’s been working so hard in Japan while Oikawa’s been playing country hopscotch, and though Oikawa was fully braced the entire time for a built-up, irritated, loneliness-fueled argument at any point with an ocean between them, it never came. He almost feels worse that it never did. He wants to at least feel properly guilty from understandable accusations than stew in his own helpless surrender to how good Iwaizumi is to him. 

 

His flight had landed back in Haneda yesterday closer to midnight than dinnertime but Iwaizumi had come to pick him up anyway. He’d been whisked back to their apartment to the table set with some of Oikawa’s favorites. It wasn’t the most artistically crafted meal, nor most flavorful, but it had tasted the way Oikawa wanted, because it was finally Iwaizumi cooking for him and not some Michelin-starred chef. 

 

Altogether though, he thinks he’s being stupid and melodramatic. Sighing to himself, Oikawa ties his ironically bought but unironically loved Hello Kitty apron around his waist. He’s only been gone a handful of days shy of a month and they’d talked literally every night regardless, but he’s missed Iwaizumi painfully fierce. 

 

It’s like that when you’re used to spending every single waking moment together since the beginning of conscious memory. Maybe he’s needy. Though, Iwaizumi hadn’t done anything but hold him by the face and kiss him until they both drifted off to sleep last night either. 

 

Oikawa grins at the thought. He’s humming as he cracks eggs into the pan with some thick cuts of bacon, wondering if Iwaizumi would rather have rice and miso soup. 

 

He’s a little bit cold standing in only an apron and underwear but Oikawa is very happy he didn’t go with anything else when Iwaizumi’s arms suddenly snake around his middle. The smile on his face brightens a hundred watts even though he doesn’t turn around, and Oikawa instinctively tilts his head to the right to offer his neck, eager for Iwaizumi’s mouth. 

 

“You should’ve bought something pre-made if you’re that hungry,” he teases, thoroughly pleased at the scrape of Iwaizumi’s teeth at the sensitive curve between his neck and shoulder. 

 

“You smell nice,” Iwaizumi says in his ear, breath hot. His voice is gravelly from sleep and Oikawa presses his back into Iwaizumi’s chest a little harder. He drops his left shoulder even more, offering all of his mostly unmarred neck, a silent request, and Iwaizumi’s mouth is on him again, tongue laving to soothe over a much harder bite.

 

Oikawa groans, hands suddenly stupid. He was making breakfast for dinner, they have to eat. He knows Iwaizumi will like it, it’s been so long since Oikawa’s been able to make him dinner and he’s missed it. He clears his throat, hoping it’ll clear the fog in his mind, and says nothing as Iwaizumi’s hands splay open against his belly and slide down. There’s something naughty about it being under his apron. Poor Kitty-chan, so innocently, pinkly draped over the quickly forming bulge between his legs. 

 

The thought is so ridiculous that Oikawa bites out a breathless laugh, the end of it turning into a sharp gasp as Iwaizumi’s strong hands slip around his inner thighs. Oikawa’s tenuous grasp on the frying pan and spatula grow ever more tenuous. He closes his eyes, teeth digging into his lower lip. 

 

Iwaizumi squeezes his thighs, just one more thing Iwaizumi likes about him. He likes how soft they feel, Iwaizumi had told him before. Because he’s an athlete, because he’s all carved muscle, because his height is built of hard bones, Iwaizumi likes it when Oikawa’s thighs are wrapped around him, soft like pillows and always so inviting. Oikawa’s gut burns with self-satisfaction. Iwaizumi loves all these things about him and Oikawa is more than happy to provide. He’s proud that Iwaizumi comes to him again and again to indulge, that Oikawa is what he wants with stubborn singularity, Oikawa as he is without any frills or expectations. 

 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa breathes, arching his back. He presses the swell of his ass into the hollow of Iwaizumi’s hips, gratified to feel the hard jut of Iwaizumi’s interest immediately press back into him. 

 

“I missed you,” Iwaizumi mumbles in his ear. He pulls Oikawa tighter against him by the thighs, not a scrap of air between them, and hums his approval when Oikawa finally surrenders and looks to him. 

 

They kiss gently at first, then immediately deeper, crashing through a thousand mental reminders of restraint. Something about seeing more of Oikawa’s pictures of the Modena Volley team and the inside of the gym, or swapping stories of workplace drama with that uptight asshole who heads Iwaizumi’s department, or watching the shopping list of backlogged movies they want to see but Oikawa hadn’t allowed Iwaizumi to watch alone. There were things that weren’t sex for sure, Iwaizumi is definitely sure, but he can no longer imagine what any of them could be. Nothing worthwhile, certainly?

 

“Iwa-chan, I was making breakfast,” Oikawa says, panting the words between wet kisses. He whines when Iwaizumi pulls back as if to actually carry on a conversation, shamelessly abandoning what he was doing to whirl around and keep them kissing.

 

Iwaizumi makes a delicious noise as Oikawa arches into him, mouth opening wider for Oikawa’s tongue. His hands are hot against Oikawa’s back, nails rough as they drag down from his shoulderblades to his hips, digging in to leave marks. Oikawa moans, singlemindedly aroused, pushing and pushing until Iwaizumi has to take a steadying step back, supporting more of Oikawa’s weight than not. 

 

“Are we eating or am I taking you back to bed?” Iwaizumi teases, grinning against Oikawa’s slick mouth. It only makes Oikawa whine again, this time with a pout, and he looks frustratingly beautiful. 

 

Iwaizumi kisses him again, wishes he could pour himself into Oikawa’s sweet mouth, eagerly swallowing the needy noises Oikawa makes in the back of his throat. The sucking, wet sounds of their kissing are only fueling the fire. Iwaizumi tangles his fingers into Oikawa’s pretty chestnut hair, cradling the back of his head, stroking him the way he likes. And he knows Oikawa likes it, because Oikawa always fidgets and mewls and looks at him so helplessly when he indulges in Oikawa the way he likes, like Oikawa wants to melt into him but doesn’t know how to ask. 

 

With a noisy gasp, Iwaizumi breaks their suffocating kisses, nipping his way up the side of Oikawa’s neck to his ear. He’s got his hands fully cupping Oikawa’s ass, groping with unfiltered want, their hips rocking in a slow grind.

 

Oikawa’s nails are about to break skin on Iwaizumi’s biceps. “Take me to bed already!” Oikawa manages between gasps, helplessly grinding his erection against Iwaizumi’s for more friction. 

 

Iwaizumi’s tongue is so hot against Oikawa’s ear that it elicits a full-bodied shiver and an unsuppressed moan of pleasure. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets his mouth water for just a few seconds before he’s ripping himself away, literally stumbling into a jog and dragging Iwaizumi with him back to the bedroom. 

 

He skids to a halt in the middle of the living room, shoving Iwaizumi towards the bedroom before he’s sprinting back to turn off the stove. Ah, his poor sunny side ups...

 

By the time Oikawa is running back to bed, Iwaizumi is already lying there waiting, eyes hard and glittering with want. Oikawa curses under his breath and wrestles his way out of his apron and underwear, a telltale warmth to his cheeks as Iwaizumi’s eyes rake down the length of his body. It’s pointed enough to feel like a physical caress and Oikawa’s stomach knots tighter, wanting all of that wanting for the rest of his life.

 

“Iwa-chan, don’t stare!” he pretends to complain, allowing himself to be pulled into an embrace. Oikawa considers teasing him, or talking, or any number of things, but Iwaizumi pins him to the mattress and stares into his eyes like he wants to say a million things and lost all his words. 

 

Helplessly, Oikawa makes a noise in the back of his throat, chest as tight as the claw he’s got around Iwaizumi’s hip. “I missed you, Tooru,” Iwaizumi says, rough and raw, and it shows in all the lines of his face. There’s a brightness to his eyes and a pull in the corners of his mouth. Oikawa’s breath is unsteady as he exhales, and he’s unable to think of anything good to say as Iwaizumi dips his head to plunder his mouth. 

 

Oikawa moans freely, pulling and pulling at him, slotting Iwaizumi solid and comfortable between his thighs. He grinds up into him and stutters out moans of encouragement, not that Iwaizumi needs them. His hands are everywhere and not enough all at once, and Oikawa arches with a cry as Iwaizumi’s mouth close around a nipple. He used to complain that it’s not like he’s a girl, there’s no meaning to it, except it feels good, there’s no use in pretending anymore, and Iwaizumi seems to do it on purpose just to drive him crazy. 

 

Heels digging into the mattress, Oikawa tries to arch higher into Iwaizumi’s mouth, sucking in a sharp gasp as teeth close around the hard, sensitive nub. Iwaizumi tongues at it relentlessly and Oikawa’s cock jumps when Iwaizumi follows it up with a hard suck, and he’s half out of his mind, rubbing himself helplessly against Iwaizumi’s thigh. 

 

“Wait, Iwa-chan,” he begs between pants, watching with dazed eyes as Iwaizumi leaves wet, sucking kisses down his belly. His tongue drags down past Oikawa’s bellybutton and Oikawa really begs him to wait now, eyes wide as saucers. A thick string of precome has dripped from the slit of his cock onto his belly and Oikawa is genuinely terrified of coming straight away. “Iwa-chan,” he says again in warning, really begging, and Iwaizumi flashes him a grin, so dark and knowing that a fresh wave of lust hammers into Oikawa’s abdomen. 

 

He’s not going to act like a virgin. He tells himself that literally every single time they have sex, and every single time, Oikawa doesn’t know where all that iron-clad resolve so infamous on the court goes to when he’s in bed. 

 

“Ah! I- _Iwa-chan_!!” Oikawa yelps, and then he’s stuffing his knuckles in his mouth, trying to muffle the noises leaking past his lips. Iwazumi makes it a futile effort. His mouth is perfect, wet suction, engulfing his cock like he’s practiced for this, an obscene slurp following each bob of his head. “Iwa-chan, I- _ah!_ I’ll come if you--!!” Oikawa gives up speech, words obliterated in needy cries of Iwaizumi’s name. He’s so hard it’s painful. Iwaizumi is making these guttural noises in his throat, a thrum to his noisy sucks, his hums of his encouragement lewd enough to make Oikawa’s toes curl. 

 

Whimpering helplessly, Oikawa brings his knees up to squeeze his thighs together, needing to stave his orgasm off. He likes that he’s got Iwaizumi’s head right where he wants him but his victory is short-lived--Oikawa’s world is too busy careening off-center for him to know what to do with himself. 

 

Iwaizumi pops off his cock with a wet slurp and Oikawa shudders in relief, gasping noisily between Iwaizumi’s heavy breaths. “Are you watching me, Tooru?” he asks, voice a whole register lower than usual. 

 

Oikawa furiously shakes his head, not trusting his voice. It makes Iwaizumi sink teeth into the inside of his right thigh to leave a satisfying mark, right where it’s smoothest and softest, and Oikawa wonders if he hasn’t already come, because he can’t tell anymore. “I don’t mind if you do, I guess I’d just be shy.”

 

Oh this fucker, this asshole. How can he have the mental capacity to joke!? Oikawa’s face burns a thousand degrees but he refuses to look down, refuses to look at him. He doesn’t want to come alone even if Iwaizumi seems hellbent on making him do exactly that. 

 

“Iwa-chan, really,” Oikawa moans, sliding his heel up where it’s resting against Iwaizumi’s back. “I want--” The rest of it is lost in a painful whimper, Oikawa curling off the mattress as Iwaizumi swallows his cock in a wet mess. “Iwa-chan, I’m- _melting_ \--” Oikawa babbles, claws both hands in Iwaizumi’s short hair, nearly sitting up, his abs pulled tight before Iwaizumi’s hands are snaking up his belly to shove him back down. 

 

Oikawa stares unseeingly at the ceiling, hips stuttering forward, seeking more depth in Iwaizumi’s mouth. Traitorous body. He’s too out of control, so out of his mind that he doesn’t know what to do. 

 

Iwaizumi slides Oikawa’s cock into his mouth until the tip just touches the back of his throat. That’s as far as he’s willing, but he lets Oikawa feel him there for a long, stretched moment, his nose just skimming the delicate skin of Oikawa’s lower abdomen. 

 

Then he’s sliding off of him, achingly hard himself, and grins at his handiwork laid out before him. 

 

Oikawa doesn’t relinquish control of much of anything. It’s that obsessive personality and need for control that’s made him one of the top setters in the entire world, and that’s why he’s training as much as he is in Italy with a coveted personal invitation from Modena. Oikawa is on the forefront of change in professional volleyball for Japan and Iwaizumi is unspeakably proud of him. But he still loves to wrench that control from Oikawa’s hands and take him apart the way he is now, leave him trembling and begging and a wet mess on their sheets, the most perfect with Iwaizumi’s come between his thighs. 

 

It must show on his face because Oikawa’s breaths start to hitch faster, and his eyes are dark pools of invitation as they stare up at him with needy request. Iwaizumi gets the lube and works Oikawa open, pained with desire to have to listen to the sounds Oikawa makes in the meantime. It’s unbearable, he just wants to plunge into Oikawa’s heat and fuck him stupid, but there’s something more delicious in waiting. 

 

“Don’t t- _tease_ me!” Oikawa grinds out between biting into the fleshy pad of his own palm. Iwaizumi twists all three fingers inside of him just for that and Oikawa understands how much trouble that stupid mouth of his can really get him into. “Iwa-chan, please!” he tries, changing tactics in a fit of desperation, “I want to c- come from your cock. _Please_?”

 

At least that gets Iwaizumi’s attention. The mouth pressed to the side of his knee pauses in the middle of a sucking kiss and Oikawa exhales in relief, high-pitched whine escaping as Iwaizumi finally pulls his fingers out. 

 

With fevered excitement, Oikawa watches Iwaizumi slick up his cock. It’s thick and hard and straining for him, heavy with arousal. Oikawa’s mouth starts to water again and he wonders how he can convince Iwaizumi to let him suck him off just once, just a little, have him stretch his mouth open and fuck it. 

 

He reaches for Iwaizumi’s elbow, wanting him much closer, just closer to what he wants, but Iwaizumi doesn’t even give him the time to bargain. He cushions himself between Oikawa’s spread thighs and presses the thick head of his cock right against Oikawa’s hole, making him twitch all over. 

 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whines, eyes wide and stomach caved with anticipation. He has limits to patience, especially since it seems like Iwaizumi is trying to go slower. Oikawa slides himself forward and presses himself around Iwaizumi’s cock, ragged cry ripping out of his throat as he swallows Iwaizumi inside. It’s not a secret and it’s not like Iwaizumi doesn’t know, but Oikawa happily played with himself while he was in Italy with Iwaizumi in mind. He wanted this as smooth as he could have it and he’s glad now, flexing around the thick girth of Iwaizumi’s cock, thighs trembling as he settles. 

 

Iwaizumi’s breaths are noisily labored, his nails digging painfully into Oikawa’s hips. He cries out when Oikawa squeezes him and Oikawa is flooded with smug gratification. 

 

It seems like an eternity before Iwaizumi slides all the way in and Oikawa wants to kick him for being that big. He’s stuffed to bursting and it feels like he can’t open his thighs wide enough, even when he tries. 

 

Iwaizumi arches over him and kisses him, tongue deep in his mouth to claim him in all the ways that he can. Oikawa jerks at the thought. He’s too overwhelmed, he’s too full. He’s leaked a small puddle of precome onto his own abdomen and all the strength has left his legs. 

 

“You feel- I- _Tooru,_ ” Iwaizumi breathes, pleasure like pain on his face. Oikawa whimpers, staring up at him in a daze. Iwaizumi is looking at him too straight-on, Oikawa is too naked, they’re too close. He’s inside-out of himself and Iwaizumi is somehow everywhere. 

 

With a delicious drag, Iwaizumi rolls his hips out and grinds back into him, just enough to punch the breath from Oikawa’s lungs. That’s all it’s going to take. “Iwa-chan, I’m gonna--!” Oikawa yelps, quickly snaking his hand between their bodies. 

 

He squeezes hard around the head of his cock, desperate to hold his orgasm off, but Iwaizumi wrenches his hand away, pinning his wrist to bed. Oikawa screws his eyes shut and takes it, only counting to two deep, slow thrusts before his entire world melts around him. Orgasm burns through him like a fever, wipes his mind into white noise, and the only thing he can feel is the hot splatter of his own come all the way up to his collarbone. 

 

It isn’t until Iwaizumi is kissing him again that Oikawa slowly gathers himself together, just enough to register the ringing in his ears. He can’t breathe right, he’s still panting hard, and he can’t seem to get a handle on the way his hips are jerking from riding out his orgasm, but he at least knows where he is again. 

 

His cock aches from coming untouched, wanting attention. Iwaizumi has messed him up--it’s not enough for Oikawa to just jerk off anymore, he wants Iwaizumi inside him all the time, as deep as he can go. 

 

There. That’s what they both wanted really, for Oikawa to come around Iwaizumi’s cock, nice and full. Oikawa’s bones are closer to jelly than anything useful but he forces his lead-filled limbs to cradle Iwaizumi in closer anyway. 

 

“Fuck me, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa begs, a breathy whine right into Iwaizumi’s ear. It gets the reaction he’s looking for; Iwaizumi is eager and deliciously hard inside of him. 

 

It feels so good, so good to be wanted. Oikawa revels in it, deep moans of appreciation bitten into Iwaizumi’s neck and shoulder as Iwaizumi thrusts into him. It’s not a question of whether Iwaizumi can make him feel good; Iwaizumi knows him too well for that. It’s only ever about how long Oikawa can hold out in the face of it, and he doesn’t feel too bad that he doesn’t really even try. 

 

“You feel so good,” Iwaizumi pants into his ear, quiet but generous moans for Oikawa to hear. It just eggs Oikawa on, anyway. Oikawa squeezes his thighs tighter around Iwaizumi’s waist, blind and deaf to anything that isn’t Iwaizumi as he moans to be fucked so thoroughly. Iwaizumi’s cock fills him again and again, grinding into all the good spots that Oikawa likes, and he claws long, painful marks into Iwaizumi’s back as Iwaizumi folds him more in half. 

 

Too close, too deep. Oikawa swallows a whimper, able to almost taste Iwaizumi’s thick cock in the back of his throat. “Good?” he breathes, one hand twisted into Iwaizumi’s hair to drag him in for a kiss. 

 

“So good,” Iwaizumi pants into his mouth, teeth tugging at Oikawa’s lower lip. “Tooru, I want to come inside you.”

 

Oikawa swears his vision dims. He hiccups past an inhale as Iwaizumi’s hips snap faster, the thought of Iwaizumi coming inside of him making his entire face flush. “Come inside me, Iwa-chan,” he begs, words somehow not fitting in his mouth, the effort like talking around molasses. “I want you to come inside me, please?”

 

Iwaizumi loses any sense of reason or control he thought he might’ve retained. Oikawa is hot and wet for him, gripping his cock tight enough to nearly hurt. He’s making the most obscene noises and begging to be fucked and Iwaizumi fucks him as deep as he wants, face buried in the curve of Oikawa’s shoulder. 

 

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa moans with breath he can’t afford. He’s strung too tight. Iwazumi is moaning and gasping freely right next to his ear and it’s driving him crazy. Oikawa arches up out of instinct and Iwaizumi happens to arch down, and the wet slide of Iwaizumi’s abs against his cock is as much pain as it is relief. 

 

Oikawa half-sobs his way through his second orgasm, tense and shaking and aching from it, only managing a few drops of come this time around. He’s overstimulated and definitely too far past 18 to be having this many orgasms in such a short amount of time, but Iwaizumi is merciless. 

 

He can’t help the embarrassing noises he’s making as Iwaizumi comes inside of him, fucking him as deep as he can, bodily pushing into him like he’s trying to pick Oikawa up. It’s second nature to him and Oikawa flushes from head to toe with gleeful, exhausted pleasure at that fact. Genuinely delirious, he thinks about how pregnant he would be by now if he was a woman. 

 

Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be faring any better, gasping his name, over and over, shuddering with pleasure inside the warmth of Oikawa’s embrace. He feels emptied, a month of wanting all turned out in a moment. 

 

“You feel so good,” Iwaizumi says once he’s regained some breath, sighing the biggest exhale. He leaves another sucking kiss to the side of Oikawa’s neck, having had gradually collapsed into him. He’s too exhausted to move. 

 

“You feel good too,” Oikawa mumbles back, nuzzling into Iwaizumi’s hair. He presses a kiss to Iwaizumi’s ear, clenching just a little, laughing deep in his chest when Iwaizumi immediately groans and arches instinctively into his hips. “That felt really good, Iwa-chan.”

 

For a while, they just laze, Oikawa’s fingertips scrawling hearts into Iwaizumi’s back. He doubts he’s going to leave the apartment until he has to fly back to Italy.

 

Iwaizumi eventually pops out of hiding, looking appropriately mussed and a little sleepy. He’s content though, blindingly happy, and it makes a blush crawl across Oikawa’s face. 

 

Even if he’s never known anyone else, even if he’s never loved anyone else, he knows with certainty that he wasn’t made for anyone but Iwaizumi. Oikawa is too realistic to believe in soulmates but he does believe in fate, and he’s started to wonder if those aren’t the same thing with Iwaizumi, in the end. 

 

Iwaizumi brushes away the stray locks of hair matted to his forehead with sweat, looking at him with unbearable fondness. “It’s really good to have you home,” he says, a bit gruff. He clears his throat in embarrassment, ducking for a sweet, lingering kiss that makes Oikawa melt further into bed. “Come on, I’ll finish making you dinner.”

 

Being apart from Iwaizumi is not something that Oikawa ever elects to do. He can’t help the moan that escapes him when Iwaizumi slides out, suddenly so empty again as Iwaizumi’s come starts to ooze out of him. There’s hunger in Iwaizumi’s face that has nothing to do with food and that’s all the reason Oikawa needs to leave his legs spread, clenching around nothing but the hot mess of Iwaizumi’s come leaking out. “Iwa-chan,” he whines, nothing but lust and pointed begging.

 

“We eat, and then we’re coming back here,” Iwaizumi says through grit teeth, voice tight. Oikawa smirks in victory, unable to even hide it under a guise of innocent obliviousness.

 

\---

 

“It’s really a shame your coach has all of you on such a strict diet when you’re in Italy,” Iwaizumi laments, belly full with slightly overcooked eggs and a lot of pancakes. He’s warm and sated in all the ways he could be, cradling Oikawa happily against him, absentmindedly running his fingers through Oikawa’s hair. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost weight though, I was a bit worried.”

 

Oikawa internally basks with pleasure to hear that, careful not to let it show too obviously. It’s hard to hide that he’s glowing, though. “I wish you could come with me, Iwa-chan. But your boss is such an asshole, I wish he would at least pay you more if he was going to work you so hard and not give you time off.”

 

Iwaizumi sighs, appreciating those words as he always does. It’s easy for no one to make a living but Iwaizumi is still happy to work hard and build a life with Oikawa. It’s harder now that Oikawa is away for training, and he won’t really be back to Japan for good for another month and a half, which means Iwaizumi only gets him for three more days before he jets off again. Iwaizumi never thought himself needy or clingy in the past, but he realizes now that he and Oikawa have always been at each other’s sides as often as physically conceivable for the entirety of their lives. Or maybe it’s just age, being more aware of weeks passing by where the only presence of Oikawa these days is the hollow ache in his chest and the gold band around his finger. 

 

“I’m sorry I can’t come with you,” Iwaizumi says anyway, despite Oikawa’s consistent refusals to hear that apology from him.

 

“Well…” Oikawa says, turning to him to give him a sweet kiss to the mouth. He smiles, hoping he can cheer Iwaizumi up a bit, drawing hearts on Iwaizumi’s collarbone. It is really, really hard to be away. “If you really want to make it up to me, you can tell me how things have been going with that cute kouhai of yours at work!”

 

Iwaizumi doesn’t even know what he’s talking about for a good fifteen seconds, groaning when Oikawa’s smile starts to show teeth. “Are you talking about Ayase-chan again?”

 

“Yes, _Ayase-chan,_ ” Oikawa agrees, danger in all his sweetness.

 

“I really don’t know why you fixated on her. She’s just my kouhai and she’s got a small crush on me, you know that’s it. It’s not even serious. I think she actually has a boyfriend.”

 

“Okay, but she played volleyball in high school,” Oikawa points out, like that makes sense.

 

“Okay? _We_ played volleyball in high school too!”

 

“Yes, and I _married_ you,” Oikawa says, like it’s the most obvious logical conclusion ever, like Iwaizumi is the one not making sense. “You may think it’s just a crush but crushes spiral out of control very easily and she’ll fall in love with you!”

 

“You don’t really think that,” Iwaizumi says, wanting to facepalm. 

 

“But I do!” Oikawa starts to pout, and Iwaizumi finally sees a fissure of insecurity from their month of being apart. “I mean, _I_ fell in love with you, didn’t I?”

 

Iwaizumi’s heart seizes in his chest. Oikawa’s voice is so small, too vulnerable even though he smiles like he’s trying to joke. “Of course you did,” Iwaizumi soothes, cupping his cheek. “I’ve been in love with you my whole life, it was only fair that you fell in love with me too.”

 

“Well,” Oikawa says, a little mollified. Iwaizumi usually isn’t so verbal with how he feels so Oikawa is happy to hear it. He sighs, crowding Iwaizumi that much closer. “Just make sure she doesn’t do anything crazy to make you fall in love with her.”

 

Iwaizumi laughs at the mere thought. “Like she could.”

 

“Who knows,” Oikawa sings, shrugging as he averts his eyes, “if I were her, I would.”

 

Ah, fuck. Iwaizumi closes his eyes, struggling to keep himself in check. Oikawa is self-critical by nature and it manifests in bouts of insecurity from time to time, and that’s totally fine because Iwaizumi is only human too, but it’s always painful to hear Oikawa this worried. He really doesn’t need to be; Iwaizumi really doesn’t know how to even look away from him.

 

“You’re one to talk about being jealous when you’re so out of my league,” Iwaizumi teases gently, turning them so he can hide Oikawa beneath him. “Let me enjoy being the lucky one in our relationship, okay?”

 

“I can’t believe you really think that,” Oikawa mumbles, hiding in his neck. “You must enjoy being wrong all the time, Iwa-chan.” But Iwaizumi hears the smile in his voice and relaxes again, slowly pressing soothing kisses to Oikawa’s ear and cheek. 

 

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi whispers into his ear. Oikawa’s arms tighten around his middle, a seamless embrace. 

 

“I love you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says quickly, cutting him off.

 

“You are so shitty! You never let me say it first!” Iwaizumi complains, laughing and aching with affection for him.

 

“Maybe you should learn to talk faster?”

 

“Can’t, too busy being in love with you.” Oikawa makes a startled, embarrassing noise in his throat, face flushing deep pink, and Iwaizumi laughs as he leans in for a kiss. “I love you, Tooru. So much.”

 

Oikawa seriously contemplates how to blackmail Iwaizumi’s boss into letting him take a month off. Well...he supposes it can wait until tomorrow, when he has time to don his Kitty-chan apron and plot a real plan over a proper breakfast. 

 

\---

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> listen...............i think i went a proper respectable amount of time in this fandom and wrote plenty of semi-plotty T-rated fics before devolving into this smutty mess. i just.............really like them together OKAY. 
> 
> i'm also seeing purity ring live in a week so this was all inspired from their first and second albums :)
> 
> as always, please come scream about iwaoi with me on twitter [@yuxisushi](https://twitter.com/yuxisushi) :)


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